The First Mission
by Pheo
Summary: Tonks and Remus go from their first surveillance assignment together straight to one of their most dangerous missions. RT
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The First Mission  
**Author:** pheo  
**Format and Word Count:** Fic, 4,090  
**Rating**: A cautious R for language  
**Warnings:** A little colorful language, some violence  
**Prompts**: poisonous candle, taste, action/adventure and/or romance, Snape, Harry, Umbridge  
**Summary:** Tonks and Remus go from their first surveillance assignment straight to one of their most dangerous missions.  
**Author's Notes:** This was written for a challenge at the Metamorfic Community at Live Journal. I had it posted as the wrong fic and am now updating it! It is set during the summer before _Order of the Phoenix_, which seems to be my favorite time period to play with! It's very rushed, and I'm not used to this genre, or fics of this length, so please keep that in mind!

***

Nymphadora Tonks eyed the pink candle on her desk suspiciously.

Not that pink wasn't her color; on the contrary, it was likely the one that suited her best. However, this was a sickening shade of pink that reminded her of her Auntie Tonks' famous, and disgusting, pink confections that she made each year for her annual Cupid's Tea. They were supposed to be little pixie cakes, but as her Auntie was only fascinated with magic—and not a real witch in any sense of the word, bless her heart—they always turned out to be a bit more on the eye-watering, rather than mouth-watering, side.

This candle was the third in a series of dubious gifts from one Dolores Umbridge, who, after months of giving the rookie Auror a hard time with everything from her green ink to her purple socks to her orange-streaked hair, suddenly became very friendly with her.

"_Nymphadora_," her simpering voice called from Tonks' desk-side AurorCom. The mirrored pool swirled to reveal the woman's froggish face, her mouth set in a strange, fuchsia crayoned line that Tonks supposed was her smile--? Maybe.

Stifling her urge to correct the blasphemous term, Tonks rolled her eyes before pasting on her own pseudo-smile—offering the woman a taste of her own tactics, she mused—and waved her wand to activate her side of the 'com. "Yes, Miss Umbridge?"

Umbridge's lashes fluttered daintily, making it seem as if twin dragonflies were caught in between her pudgy cheeks, giving a valiant struggle before suffocating within the woman's copious amounts of flesh.

Tonks blinked.

"_Hem, hem_," Umbridge coughed unnecessarily, and Tonks felt her fake grin flinch. "I was just wondering if you had received the candle I sent, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am, it's charming," Tonks said instantly.

"Oh, I am _so_ pleased," the woman cooed. "I was hoping you would like it."

Tonks waited impatiently as the woman cleared her throat several more times before continuing. "I was hoping we could have another of our lovely chats this afternoon." This time, there was no question at the end of her sentence.

Inwardly cursing a string of color that would make her own cousin blush—well, probably not, but it would definitely make that yummy professor friend of his turn pink—Tonks resisted a stomping fit and simply said, "Of course, Miss Umbridge. Whatever you like."

"Excellent, dear. I will see you in one hour's time. And _Nymphadora_?"

Tonks swallowed. Hard. "Yes, Miss Umbridge?"

"Be sure to light that delightful candle. It has the most _heavenly_ aroma." For a moment, Umbridge's face twisted into an almost gleeful—albeit still rather hideous—smirk. "Ta ta!" with that, Tonks' 'com swirled into darkness.

"_Bugger!_" Tonks flung her MemoMerger so hard against her cubicle that Sam Bones on the other side cried out, "Ow! Oy, watch it, Tonks!"

"Shouldn't be leaning against the wall, anyway," Tonks grumbled, summoning the object back to her desk. Punching a few random pieces of parchment with it, she drummed her black and white fingernails against her desk. "Just what is that toad up to?" 


	2. Chapter 2

"The _nerve_ of that loathsome little creature!" Tonks was saying, polishing a piece of the Black family silver with her enormous combat boots propped on the ancient table.

Sirius Black couldn't help tilting his head at the irony of what he was seeing and interrupted, "Tonks, you do know that we don't give a damn about the silver, right?"

"Oh." She paused and tossed the spoon in the pile that Sirius had created, moving on to cleaning the dust off some of the chairs—the Muggle way, much to his amusement.

"And asking about illicit operations! And secret societies! And werewolves!"

Remus Lupin, who had been in the process of carrying grocery bags in from a Muggle store in London, nearly dropped them all over the dirty floor. "Sirius. Nymphadora," he managed, depositing the drooping sacks as best he could on what little counter Sirius had cleaned.

"_Tonks_, Remus," she reminded him, pausing in her vehement crusade to purge the cabinets of all dust bunnies present. She did manage to give him a little grin as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Wotcher."

"Tonks, then," he murmured, as he always did, smiling a little himself. Exchanging a pointed look with Sirius, he started to unload the rations. "Who was asking about werewolves?"

"Oh, that blasted Umbridge reptile," Tonks spat, scowling at her reflection in the now-gleaming wood.

"Dolores Umbridge?" Remus paused, turning to look at the Auror. "What exactly did she ask you?"

"She wanted to know about my social life, who I hang out with, if I belong to any 'secret clubs,' fraternize with any 'untoward creatures,' stuff like that." Tonks rolled her eyes again. "I just don't get why she kept asking after I answered them! It was like she expected me to answer or something. As if I'd confide to that--" she went on to describe exactly what Umbridge was, to Sirius' whooping delight.

Remus frowned. Something just didn't seem right. "Tonks, what do you mean that she kept asking?"

Tonks shrugged. "She just kept asking. Like, when I said I didn't belong to any organizations except for the Auror Mentoring Program, she kept saying, 'Are you certain, Auror Tonks?' And when I said that I didn't gallivant with criminals and werewolves, she said, 'But do you _associate_ with any dark creatures, Nymphadora?' She just wouldn't let up." She paused. "Rather odd, really."

Remus suddenly felt uneasy. "Did you reveal anything to her at all, Tonks?" He crouched next to her. "Think hard, now."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Cute or not cute, he wasn't about to treat _her_ like a child. "I'll have you know, Remus Lupin, that had she spiked my pumpkin juice with Veritaserum I _still_ wouldn't have given anything away. I've been trained to evade questions, you know," she reminded him haughtily.

As he stood up, she continued loftily, "Besides, I wasn't lying _all_ the way. I don't consider you a criminal, Sirius. If either of us is the criminal, it's double agent Tonks, working for the Ministry by day and the Order by night!"

Sirius barked a laugh that sounded oddly enough like his furrier alter ego, but Remus continued to look troubled. "Tonks, did Umbridge send you anything before the meeting? A special drink, perhaps, or a gift of some kind?"

"She didn't drug me, Remus," Tonks said, crossing her silver bangle-covered arms. "I would have known." She shrugged. "Besides, as vile and vicious as she is, she's a Ministry official. Not that I wouldn't put much past them, but poisoning an Auror sounds pretty far-fetched."

"Yes, but it sounds as if she had expected you to answer any question she asked." Remus stared at her. "Are you sure she didn't send you anything? Something to listen to, perhaps, or to smell?"

Tonks' eyes widened. "She sent me a horrid little pink candle."

Remus stepped closer. "Do you have it? May I see it?"

She nodded. "It's in my satchel." She rose and summoned the bag to her.

Remus amusedly noted that it was covered with glittery Muggle safety pins, charmed Wizarding band patches that danced and glowed, and other strange objects before she handed the candle to him.

"Fuck, that's ugly!" Sirius declared, squinting at it as if he'd never seen anything like it.

Remus had to admit that it was hideous. A glaring pink with lime green trim and little frilly hearts and flowers embedded within it, the candle certainly didn't suit Tonks.

Remus gave a start. When did he suddenly know what objects would or would not suit the Order's newest member? Certainly, she'd been in his thoughts quite a bit as of late—much more often than he'd care to admit, actually—but they weren't so close that he could simply start making assumptions on his behalf.

Muttering over the gaudy wax, Remus waited for a few seconds before the wick started to glow red. Slowly, a deep garnet light spread down the candle, and the rest of the wick could be seen glowing red beneath the wax.

Frowning, Remus withdrew a burlap sack from beneath the sink—likely something Kreacher had either worn or slept on—and unceremoniously tossed the offending object within it.

Two sets of eyes stared at him questioningly. "Poison," he said simply.

"What?" Tonks demanded, stepping toward him. "Why? How?"

Remus shook his head. "It's actually an old spell that witches used to use on their husbands to determine if they were lying or not. If the wizard smelled the candle's scent, he would get very, very ill—and the only thing that would make him well again would be to tell the truth."

Sirius shook his head. "What a bird won't do to manipulate her man."

"Sirius, please!" said Tonks, exasperated. "Remus, this doesn't make sense. How would I know that telling the truth would make me better?"

"It _compels_ the person to tell the truth, Tonks. That's how it works." Remus still looked deeply troubled.

"OK, so that was a really low thing to do, but the worst that would happen was that I would get sick, right? What's the big deal?"

Remus just stared at her, and the worry in his eyes made _her_ start to worry.

"Remus?" she prodded.

"Tonks…" Remus looked down at the burlap, and then at his old friend, before finally resting his eyes back on her. He stopped himself short of touching her. "Strong-willed people can resist the spell."

The smile his comment brought to her face fell when he added, "Men have died from it. They just keep getting sicker until they die of dehydration and hunger." 


	3. Chapter 3

"I just don't understand," Tonks said, holding her wand tightly with both hands. "How could someone stoop to something so evil? A Ministry official, even!"

Remus didn't know how to answer her question. He did know, however, just how she felt. To realize that the world as you knew it wasn't at all what it seemed, that those you should be able to trust were not deserving of it at all—was devastating. The Umbridge woman was a wretched creature, to be sure—but being a bigot was something on an entirely different level from being a possible murderer.

They were both disillusioned, perched high in a tree directly across from Number Four, Privet Drive. A week before, Tonks had been enthralled at the prospect of standing guard over The Boy Who Lived, with Remus' aid during her first shift.

"Harry Potter!" she had squealed, the delight on her face making him smile. "Wow! I can't believe you actually taught him, Remus. What's he like?"

Before Remus could speak, Sirius had cut in, spinning tales of Harry's post-war triumphs even as a young boy at Hogwarts, and Tonks had sat, enthralled, glued to every word. Though Sirius' words were definitely embellished a bit—and rang of an almost father-like pride—Remus, too, enjoyed the bittersweet tales.

"So what happened? When you had Wormtail ready at wandpoint and you were surrounded by dementors—Remus, did you chase them off?"

Remus had been startled by the question. Surely she knew--? But the expectant look on her face proved otherwise, and as he cleared his throat, trying to dislodge both the butterflies in his stomach and the lump in his throat, Sirius went on to boast about Harry's heroic save.

Tonks was delighted, and though Remus felt a pang at not telling her the whole truth, he had to admit that her excitement at seeing Harry was contagious. It has been a few weeks since he had done a shift on Privet Drive, and he, too, was looking forward to seeing his old friend's son—not to mention the thrill of spending more time with Nympahdora.

But after the previous day's revelation, she didn't seem as exited. Her normally bright eyes were circled with a bit of darkness, as if she hadn't slept, and her hair, though a bright red, hung a bit limply at her ears.

That familiar feeling of being deceived burned at him, and Remus knew he had to finally tell her the truth.

"Tonks, there's something I need to tell you." Though he couldn't see her, he could feel her questioning eyes on him—but before he could go any further, the familiar _pop!_ of an apparation sounded from a nearby branch.

Though the newcomer was also unseen, Remus knew who it was instantly when the voice said, "Nice day for loitering around a tree, isn't it, _Lupin_?"

"Severus," Remus greeted civilly. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"Don't be cheeky with me, Lupin. The Headmaster sent me for the both of you. He needs you for a special assignment—involving some kind of mutable creature, no doubt, if he requires the two of you."

Remus held his breath. He certainly didn't want her to find out this way.

But Tonks broke the silence first. "Well, that's a relief. We can at least be sure it won't be dealing with any of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's pets, since you're not coming along."

Remus could hear Snape draw in an irritated breath. "Well, _Nymphadora_, if you take to werewolves more kindly than serpents, perhaps you are well-suited for this particular assignment—and certainly for the scorn you have brought upon the House of Black."

"Why you slimy--"

Remus cut her off. "Really, we should be going," he said uneasily. "Will you be taking over, Severus?"

"Of course not," Snape scoffed. "I have better things to do for the Order than babysit. Arabella will be taking over shortly. When she arrives, you know what to do."

"What? What are you talking about? Why didn't Dumbledore just send a patronus to tell us this?" Tonks asked.

A small green jar with a silver lid appeared to float between them. "Because a patronous could not carry this, _Nympahdora._" And then there was a sharp _crack!_ as Snape dissapperated.

"Greasy-haired git," Tonks mumbled. "What on earth was he talking about, Remus?"

Remus could only stare at the jar in his hand. He knew exactly what Dumbledore wished for them to do—and did not look forward to it one bit.

Arabella Figg gave a whistle from the walkway below as she passed with a small shopping bag.

"That's the signal," Remus told her. "Meet me at the Apparation point. We'll travel to Hogwarts from there. I must be certain before we go on this mission." Before she could question him, Remus Disapperated. 


	4. Chapter 4

As it turned out, Snape had been partly right; they were to capture a creature.

"A _bicorn_?" Tonks asked once again, feeling rather sick.

"It really shouldn't be a problem," Remus assured her, though he didn't feel as confident as his words sounded.

Dumbledore had explained to them how, although Tonks' abilities were quite beneficial to the Order, they still needed the ability to pose as others—which was where the polyjuice potion came into play. A necessary ingredient to the potion, the essence from the tip of a bicorn, had been dwindling during Order missions—and, of course, after the constant use of the brew by one Barty Crouch, Junior the past year.

In order to capture the bicorn—a snarling, man-eating beast with the body of a beast and the face of a woman—sedate it, carve off a horn tip, and release it back into the wild, they would need to use one of them as bait.

"You've captured one of these before, haven't you?" she demanded, as they made their way toward a barren swamp where the creatures were known to be seen.

"Er—well, yes." Remus had, in fact, captured one before, for this very same purpose. Lily Evans had actually been with him on the mission. On his nineteenth birthday, they had come to this very swamp, posing as a married couple, in order to capture a bicorn.

Bicorns liked to eat any humans, really, but their favorite meal consisted of faithful husbands. Tonks didn't know it yet, but she was about to play a role that she'd likely never done before.

Dumbledore was playing the caution card after Remus and Lily were both nearly killed during the last capture. This time, he had a Metamorphagus, which was much better than a mirror.

His eyes inched over her lovely face and he sighed inwardly, wondering if his dreams would ever come to fruition. "You can always back out of this, Tonks," he said suddenly. "This _can_ work with mirrors instead. You don't need to endanger yourself."

She snorted. "Oh, and you do? Come on, Remus. Let's just get on with it."

"So, here's what we do," Remus said, suddenly nervous. Dumbledore hadn't explained this to the young Auror. "I will take a bit of this salve and tuck it beneath my tongue, and it will make my body seem dead for all of fifteen minutes. My chest will not move; I won't even appear to be breathing."

She looked uncertain, biting her bottom lip. "Remus?"

"It isn't real," he went on briskly. "What you will need to do is act like my sobbing wife, bent over my dead body. You'll need to go on and on about what a virtuous, faithful husband I am. If not, it won't take the bait."

He paused. "This is very important, Tonks. You'll need to shift your face to mirror its face as soon as you see it. It will become entranced; it won't be able to leave its eyes from yours _as long as you don't move a muscle._ If you move at all, it will not hesitate to eat you."

_And that's how Moody lost part of his leg—saving Lily and me from the last mission like this_, he thought ruefully. But he wasn't about to tell Tonks that.

Tonks' eyes widened and she nodded. "Right. Right-o. Okay. No problem."

"I will awaken shortly, and take the horn. Once I cut it, it will fall asleep—and it should be long enough for us to escape." He paused again. "Any hesitation at all," he implored, his eyes burning into hers, "any movement, and you send a patronus immediately and get the _hell_ out of here."

"What about you?" Tonks was grasping his arms tightly now, pulling him close, and Merlin it was all he could do to not smell her, touch her, taste her.

"Shhh. Hear that?" Remus tensed, and the two stood achingly still as a dark, rumbling cry echoed off the black trees. "It's nearby. Quickly, get ready."

Tonks swallowed the lump in her throat. "Remus--"

He shook his head, holding a finger up to his lips. Over his shoulder, she could see the stalking shadow of a cat through the clustered trees, disfigured behind them as if half of it were transparent.

Remus dipped his fingers into the jar and coated the bottom of his tongue with the substance, immediately collapsing upon the ground.

Tonks didn't have to act. "Remus!" she screamed, falling beside his body. Grabbing his lapel desperately, she heard rustling in the distance and knew she had to be quick. "My darling husband! So faithful! So true! Oh, my love!"

She cradled his unmoving head in her hands. "I wish that I could have told you how much you meant to me. Your kindness when I'm clumsy, and your jokes when I'm upset—I've always known what you are, Remus, but that's nothing to _who_ you are. Merlin, Remus, please don't leave me!"

It was in that instant she felt two glowing eyes upon her, and looking up, she gasped—just one second!—before feeling her face ripple and change into the one before her—a beautiful, terrifying face, with golden, pupil-less eyes, long, tangled black hair, and lips that parted to reveal the longest, most pointed teeth she'd ever seen.

Tonks felt her own incisors grow, touching her lower lip, and she knelt, motionless, eyeball to eyeball with the creature, smelling its horrid, stagnant blood-breath, feeling the coarse, long dark hairs brush her cheek, her breast bone; watching in fear and and fascination as it stared back, equally enthralled with its own mirror image, staring, captivated, roving over every feature, every curve, every line—

And then she remembered Remus' lifeless body, felt a fistful of his fringe with a trembling hand, felt the dirt smeared on his cheek pressed against the ground—

And then she watched in horror as the bicorn's eyes widened, tracing the path of a lone tear sliding down Tonks' cheek.

Suddenly the eyes blazed at the discrepancy, flashing red up into hers once again, and Tonks felt rather than heard the deafening roar in her face, and as the tearing scratch of claws came down across her left shoulder blade, she knew it was too late for a patronus—

Drawing her wand, she crouched, preparing for another attack—

When Remus leapt up from the soggy ground and sliced of the tip of a horn, causing the creature to howl one short, dying sound as it fell to the mud, in a deep sleep.

"Tonks," Remus breathed, clutching her to him. "Are you okay? You're bleeding! We have to get you out of here"

Her face slackened, returning to its own, and she hugged him with all she was worth. "Remus, I'm so sorry--" she began.

"We have to reach the Apparation point," Remus interrupted.

Eyebrows furrowed, she turned and saw what he was looking at.

Two more bicorns—both bigger than the one that had scratched Tonks.

"Run," he whispered.

"Not a chance," she whispered back.

In unspoken agreement, the two drew their wands together, crouching in a fight stance.

The largest bicorn pounced, nicking Remus in the shoulder. Tonks hit it with a stunning spell—but the spell failed!

"Remus?" she shouted, dodging the attack of the smaller bicorn as it leapt.

"They're immune," he managed, aiming a spell at a low-hanging tree limb. The limb fell with a deafening crack—right upon the larger bicorn. Howling, the creature struggled against the fallen limb, its long red hair swirling as it struggled.

But as Remus turned, the smaller one was upon him, and Tonks did the only thing she knew to do.

"Hey, you ugly bitch! Yeah, you! The one with the forest dandruff!"

The bicorn turned, its eyes silvery, and it let out a feral feline hiss as it charged at Tonks.

"_Tonks!_" Remus cried, running to catch up—but the creature was simply too _fast._

As it leapt into the air, Tonks felt her face twisting in the quickest change she'd ever managed—and suddenly, the beast was kneeling in front of her, its foul, blackened woman's lips parted in fascination as she stared at it—and Remus lurched forward, snipping one horn, and grabbed Tonks' hand as it fell, too.

"Come on," he urged, and they ran without stopping to the Apparation point.

When they reached the edge of Hogsmeade, their clippings safely stored in Remus' cloak, neither could speak. They simply stood, chests heaving, staring at each other—both bloodied, both dirtied. Half of Remus' face was covered in mud, and it was all throughout his hair. Tonks' shoulder had stopped bleeding but it was a nasty, jagged cut, surrounded by bog dirt. Though her face had returned to normal, Remus found himself captivated by it still, staring into the eyes that had literally saved his life.

"Did I miss something?" she asked, breathlessly.

Remus shook his head and before he knew it, he found his mouth slanted over hers, and his hands wound in her dirt-strewn hair, crushing her face into his in a binding, searing display of passion and wanting and _being._

One of her hands wound itself in the back of his hair, right at his sweaty, muddy nape; the other was beneath his sweater, rounding his ribs and rolling over his clammy skin, skimming ridges of old scars and making him shiver.

Suddenly he pulled away. "I—I'm so sorry," he managed, stepping back from her as if he'd burned himself.

"S'okay," she mumbled throatily, her lips swollen like day-old bee stings.

"We'd better get this to Dumbledore," he said, and she was looking at him with those eyes again—Tonks eyes—and even as she mumbled her agreement, he found himself pressed against her again, and for the first time in his life, the thought _Dumbledore can wait_ crossed his mind, however briefly.


End file.
